


possibly, maybe i'm falling for you

by folignos



Category: Hockey RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 01:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2833292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/folignos/pseuds/folignos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PK unironically loves the morning shift at work. There’s no mess to clean up, because he’s the first one there, he gets to start the day by making himself the biggest cup of coffee it’s possible to make (and if he blends an entire brownie into it, well, there’s no one important around to catch him), and he gets to flirt with grumpy boring coffee guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	possibly, maybe i'm falling for you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brandonsaad (createadisaster)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/createadisaster/gifts).



> i've been wanting to write a decent coffeeshop au for forEVER. hopefully this suffices
> 
> part eight of jenna's nine part present 
> 
> title from landon pigg's falling in love at a coffee shop. obviously.
> 
> follow me on tumblr for more nonsense and/or hockey!

PK unironically loves the morning shift at work. There’s no mess to clean up, because he’s the first one there, he gets to start the day by making himself the biggest cup of coffee it’s possible to make (and if he blends an entire brownie into it, well, there’s no one important around to catch him), and he gets to flirt with grumpy boring coffee guy.

Grumpy boring coffee guy turns up at the same time every day, and orders the same black coffee every day, and, shockingly, is grumpy every day. He walks with a slight limp, and his hair is always, always, messy. PK’s made a habit of flirting with him, doodling on the cardboard sleeve while he waits for Gally to yawn his way through brewing the order. He’s impressively unresponsive, and he curls his hands around the cardboard cup as soon as it’s within reach.

‘Don’t burn your tongue, buddy,’ PK says the first time, reflexively, and grumpy boring coffee guy glares, hands over his five dollars, and takes off, jamming his toque back onto his head as he braves the sleet outside.

-

One day, grumpy boring coffee guy turns up, and the store is empty but for him, PK, and a couple of guys in suits sitting at the table in the corner, noses in their laptop screens, just like it always is. ‘Can I get your name for the order?’ PK asks, grinning.

Grumpy boring coffee guy looks at him, and then makes a show of looking around. ‘Just in case you get my coffee mixed up with all these other orders,’ he says, slowly. His hair is even messier today, sticking up at all angles. PK wants to run his hands through it.

Shut up, he’s only human.

‘Yep!’ PK says, popping the P as he uncaps his sharpie and looks at grumpy boring coffee guy expectantly.

Grumpy boring coffee guy rolls his eyes. ‘Carey,’ he says, eventually.

PK scrawls it on the cup in massive looping letters, and turns to the machine. ‘Don’t you ever feel like getting something more exciting?’ he asks, mostly just to cover the silence. PK doesn’t like silence.

‘Like what?’ Carey asks.

PK shrugs. ‘White coffee?’

‘Hilarious,’ Carey says, dry. PK winks at him over his shoulder.

‘Here you go,’ he says, clicking the plastic lid on. ‘One boring black coffee.’

‘Delicious,’ Carey says, deadpan.

‘See you tomorrow!’ PK says, handing over his change.

-

Carey doesn’t come in for coffee for three days in a row. If PK was the worrying type, he’d worry that he’d found somewhere else to order the same thing every day.

He turns up on the fourth day with snow in his eyelashes, slightly less grumpy than normal.

‘I thought you might have gotten lost,’ PK comments, handing over his coffee.

Carey squints at him.

‘Hadn’t seen you in a few days,’ PK says, trying to sound nonchalant and probably sounding the exact opposite. Carey’s gaze flicks up at him.

‘Business trip,’ He says eventually, taking a quick sip. ‘I travel a lot for work.’

‘Huh,’ PK says, wiping down the counter. ‘What’s that like?’

‘Exhausting,’ Carey says, after a pause.

‘Good money though, probably.’

‘...Yeah, it’s okay,’ Carey says, and then pulls his toque out of his pocket. It has a Habs logo stitched onto the brim.

‘Hockey fan, huh?’ PK says, nodding at it.

‘Something like that,’ Carey says. He looks far more amused than he should, PK thinks, but then someone comes in through the door, and he turns to greet them, smiling wide.

‘See you tomorrow, man,’ Carey says, and heads off into the snow again.

-

Carey comes in every day for the next two weeks, and then not at all for the week after that. Another business trip, PK figures, and doesn’t think much more about it.

-

The next time he sees Carey, he has a black eye.

‘What the fuck happened to you?’ he asks.

Carey scowls,and winces. ‘Got in a fight.’

‘On one of your business trips? Let me guess, the other guy looks worse,’ PK says, and starts making his coffee.

‘Maybe,’ Carey says, sullen. ‘He was asking for it.’

‘So you hit him in the fist with your face.’

Carey scowls. ‘Give me my coffee.’

‘Only if you promise not to fight anymore.’

Carey arches an eyebrow, and PK hands over his coffee.

‘I can and will withhold caffeine,’ he warns.

Carey grins. PK notices that one of his teeth is chipped.

‘I like you with all your teeth intact,’ he adds, and winks.

‘I make no promises,’ Carey says, and takes a long swallow of coffee. ‘I have another business trip tomorrow,’ he adds. ‘So like, I haven’t found somewhere else to buy terrible black coffee, don’t freak.’

‘I don’t _freak_ ,’ PK says, scandalised. ‘And hey, my coffee is not terrible. It’s not my fault you insist on drinking it like that.’

‘Fine,’ Carey says. ‘I’ll come in tomorrow morning before my flight leaves, and you can make me something more interesting, yeah?’

PK grins. ‘Deal.’

-

‘Oh my god,’ Carey says. ‘How much sugar is in this?’

PK shrugs, innocently. ‘Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.’

Carey takes another sip, considering. ‘My personal trainer’s going to murder me if he finds out.’

‘Don’t tell him then,’ PK says. ‘Have a good trip.’

‘If nothing else, the sugar crash will probably help me sleep on the plane,’ Carey says. ‘I hate west coast trips. Thank god they’re only once a year.’

PK’s gonna have to ask Carey what exactly it is he does eventually, but he’s heading for the door already, overnight bag slung across one shoulder.

-

Carey looks like hell when PK next sees him, a week and a half later. He has the same bag with him, and he’s unshaven and red eyed. ‘I want as many shots of espresso as is legal to have in the same cup,’ he says, and then has to swallow a yawn.

‘Did you just step off the plane?’ PK accuses. Carey nods.

‘Didn’t sleep much on the flight, but I have to work tonight,’ he says. ‘I just need some caffeine, I’ll be fine.’

‘Dude, take the night off,’ PK says. You look awful.’

Carey twists his lips in a half smile. ‘Not really an option.’

PK scowls, but turns around and starts fixing his drink. ‘This job of yours seems very high maintenance.’

Carey actually laughs at that. ‘Tell me about it.’

PK hands his drink over (with one more shot than is technically allowed, but PK’s not gonna tell if Carey doesn’t), and then takes a risk.

‘You know, I don’t work evenings. At all. Ever. So if you ever find some time off your crazy job, you should take me out to dinner some time.’

Carey chokes on his coffee.

‘Is that a no?’ PK asks.

‘No,’ Carey says, and then coughs. ‘I mean, um. Okay. I’ll take you out to dinner next time I get a night off.’

-

Carey’s next night off happens to be that Friday, and he picks PK up from his apartment in a pick up truck. PK laughs when he sees it. Carey sets his jaw.

‘What’s wrong with my truck?’

‘Nothing,’ PK says. ‘I didn’t know you were from backwoods Alberta, is all.’

‘I’ll have you know I’m from backwoods BC,’ Carey says, pretending to be insulted.

‘So what brings you to the middle of Montreal?’ PK asks.

‘Work,’ Carey says.

‘Of course,’ PK says. ‘What is it you actually do, anyway?’

Carey turns a little pink. ‘Um,’ he starts. ‘I play hockey.’

Oh.

‘Oh my god,’ PK says. ‘You’re Carey Price.’

Carey turns pinker. ‘Um,’ he says again.

‘Why didn’t you _tell me_?’ PK demands.

‘I thought you knew!’ Carey says. ‘And by the time I realised you didn’t, I didn’t want to be the asshole that’s like “by the way, I’m gold medal winning hockey player Carey Price”, come on.’ He pauses. ‘Are you mad?’

PK thinks about it. ‘Nah,’ he says. ‘I’m on a date with Carey Price. That’s pretty cool.’

‘I can’t believe you didn’t know,’ Carey says, a few minutes later, when they’re on the road. ‘You live in _Montreal_.’

PK shrugs. ‘I’m from Toronto. Leafs fan.’

Carey stares at him. ‘Of course you are. I am never going to live this down.’

PK licks his lower lip, almost nervous. ‘I can make it up to you if you like.’

Carey looks at him, confused, and then grins, slowly. ‘Yeah?’

‘Buy me dinner first,’ PK says. ‘Then we’ll see.’

‘You’re shameless,’ Carey says.

PK grins wide at him. ‘You know it, baby,’ he says. ‘Where are we going for dinner?’

 


End file.
